


Brighter than a Shooting Star

by Willofmyown



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Star Wars - All Media Types, X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, Alternate Universe - X-Men Fusion, Jedi!Charles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-17
Updated: 2015-06-17
Packaged: 2018-03-30 21:56:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3953233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Willofmyown/pseuds/Willofmyown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As the Great Jedi Purge breaks loose on Coruscant, a group of Jedi in training manages to escape the massacre. Far away from all that they know, they need to make a new life for themselves, somewhere where the Empire cannot find them.</p><p>But nothing can hide forever and Charles might have destroyed them all when he recruits a young, gifted stranger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my first crossover and let me just say that I'm NOT an expert in either X-men or Star Wars, so bear with me.  
> The story warnings and characters with be updated as the story goes on, I don't want to give it all away just yet. :)  
> Als, English is not my first language, and corrections are very appreciated.  
> Hope you like it!

Dawn slowly broke over the horizon, the morning sun shining bright enough to reduce the furthest buildings to little more than mist, but the ones towering closer gleamed in the first rays of the day. Like pillars of shimmering crystal they stood, proud and tall. 

A planet so lacking in color and greenery shouldn’t be so beautiful.

He looked on as the planet that never really slept awoke, as traffic thickened, windows and entire floor sections opened up for the day and the sounds of a city in motion slowly grew into its usual alarm, all the while the sky went from soothing yellow to brilliant blue.

The very pulse of the city seemed to flow through him as he sat by the window, strong enough that he felt it even as he closed his eyes - so many people, so many minds. Some were whirling hurriedly forward, always forward, while some were scarcely moving in a sluggish, sleepy pace. 

So lost was he, in the feel of his city, that he very nearly fell out of his seat on the bench as a hand patted him lightly on his knee.

He could feel the familiar sense of Master Yoda’s amusement before he locked eyes with the Jedi himself. Indeed, he was standing next to the bench, his shoulders barely reaching above the edge.

“Oh, Master Yoda!” he greeted awkwardly with a small bow of his head, a scarlet shadow growing up his neck and touching his ears. The elder master had not only entered without his notice, he had clearly made his way up to him as well. Such lack of perception was on par with that of a child. “Good morning.”

“It indeed is, my young Padawan,” his master greeted, his smile growing wider at the sight of his apprentice’s embarrassment, then peered closer at him as he got up on the bench, graceful despite his size. “Or good evening, perhaps say, I should. Visited your bed this night, you have not.”

“No, Master, I haven’t.” He bowed his head again, this time in agreement as the redness slowly receded from the tips of his ears.

The Grand Master watched him in silence, his wry amusement slipping from his face and being replaced by a slight frown. “Bothering you, something is. Tell me young one, your sister it is, hmm?”

His Master’s question surprised him enough for an amused snort and he shook his head in denial. “No, Master, not this time at least. Mother still worries about her and her bounty hunter aspirations, but she is only yet seven and her dreams are still as fluid as they are great.” The thought of his sister made him smile, albeit not for long. “It is Jedi Master Adler. We spoke, or she spoke to me I should perhaps say, and her words worry me.” 

“Ah, I see.” His master nodded, as in agreement. “Caused many aching heads and sleepless nights, Madam Irene has, I am afraid. But more of your conversation, you should tell.”

He chewed on the corner of his lip, trying to form his words in accordion to his thoughts. Though he had replayed the words of Irene Adler countlessly throughout the night, he didn’t want to voice them wrongly. For all that her messages seemed vague and imprecise, they were usually rather spot on in hindsight.

“Well,” he fell silent for a moment, but his mentor waited silently and with patience. “She caught me yesterday morning, when I was mediating. She asked me how I was doing, and if my practicing had yielded any results.”

“I told her it had, and that my abilities have improved greatly.” He said it earnestly, not boasting but with certainty. His master had taught him not to lie for the sake of propriety. 

“And so she asked me if I could revert it.” He frowned slightly at the memory. “I didn’t understand her question, so she explained. That I might how to spread out my sense and feel the Force around me, in the people around me and in the environment itself. But she wondered if I could turn it on itself and hide myself from the Force, from others reaching out with it. So I told her that I didn’t know how to, that I’ve never done anything like that before, and she just smiled at me and told me that I should try.”

As he finished his tale he looked back to mentor, who seemed deep in thought.

“Master,” he said quietly, carefully. “Why does she think I should learn to do that, to… hide from the Force. I mean, those who wield the Force are the Jedi and I have nothing to fear from them.”

His Master sighed, and did at that moment look his very considerable age. “In a perfect world, true that would be. Always darkness within the light, there will be. Even outside the Jedi Academy, the Force exists. Many wielders she has.”

It spite of his words, master Yoda jumped down on the floor again, squared his shoulders and smiled slightly. “Worry too much, you should not. But if train she says you should, then train you should, yes. No such thing as too much knowledge, there is.”

With a slightly lighter heart, the young Padawan nodded his head and straightened. “I guess that’s true, thank you for your words, Master. But I wish she would speak clearly, I never know if she’s just talking to me or if her words have some hidden meaning she expects me to understand. It wasn’t just her words, it was her tone and something in her smile, like there’s something I should just understand.” He finished, with an undertone of frustration audible in his voice.

The grand master gently tapped his cane against the boy’s knee. “Afraid she rarely knows herself, I am,” he said, not unkindly. “Rare her gift with the Force is, and only a glimpse it gives her.”

Again, the boy nodded his thanks and rose from his seat, wincing at the pinching sensation of muscles awaking after a long time of inactivity. He stretched a little to increase the blood flow and with it, his ability to use his limbs, and stood. As he did so, he could feel the weight of a sleepless night settle in his mind and body alike. He decided to get some sleep while he still could; morning practice wasn’t until a few hours still.

And his Master might let out of it, he suspected with a warm thought. His master was stern and fair, but also one to bend the rules every now and then if he saw it proper. Master Yoda himself had settled in a smaller seat further into the room. His eyes were closed and he was deep in meditation, but still very aware of his surroundings, no doubt. 

While he was prepared to return to his room, something still gnawed at him. Despite his hesitation, the apprentice still turned to his mentor once again.

“Master Yoda?”

He felt the elder’s attention sharpen, but otherwise nothing changed.

“She also told me that I might enjoy visiting the old library pod, the broken one from Obroa-Skai.” Which in and of itself wasn’t a strange suggestion; he was perhaps not as fond of datascripts as he was of the books and scrolls available in the elder libraries, but he appreciated knowledge in all its forms. The old library pod, however, was in poor condition and remained for as much historical sentiment as anything else.

The Grand Master’s face revealed little as he turned to face him again, but this time his green eyes had an undercurrent of something he didn’t recognize. 

“Then visit it you should.” Master Yoda told him, voice determined but still kind. He hesitated, then smiled again. “You next project, perhaps she should be. To work with your hands as well as your mind, you should learn. Big things in motion might be.”

“Big things, master?” He asked, carefully, a sense of unease spreading inside.

“Tell you more, I cannot. Said too much, already I have.” His old eyes softened at his shaken pupil. “Rest you must, young Xavier.”

Charles nodded quickly and hurried off toward his bed.

But doubted that he would get much sleep.


	2. The Bravest People

He had been correct in his predictions. Not only had sleep refused him that night, but many of the following nights as well. In his dreams, he was chased by shadows, cryptic messages and smooth voices whispering things that made his hair stand even as he awoke, clammy and breathing fast.

This night had been a little better. He had gotten a few hours of sleep, however restless, and felt a little less hollow than he had the days before.

Nevertheless, the yawn that escaped him as he crossed the hallway was forceful enough to make him wince and clasp his yaw with his free hand.

“That looked painful,” a soft voice said, more amused than concerned. Charles angled his face to give his friend a smile. It was the right thing to do, apparently, as Emma walked up to him and took the toolbox he’d been carrying from him with a fake sigh. “I can’t let you carry this with a good conscience, you look like you’re about to tip over where you stand.”

“That’s really not necessary,” he insisted, though halfheartedly. The strain had been a bit taxing and he wouldn’t be of much use if he couldn’t hold his hands steady.

Emma made a snort of disbelief and readjusted her grip on the toolbox. “Yeah, sure, whatever you say. How are the reparations going along?”

He didn’t bother asking her how she knew. The Academy was extensive, but with so many young beings, news tended to travel fast. Likely, not many cared that he was fiddling with an old library pod, but Emma was a good friend and one that liked to keep tabs on her companions.

“Fairly good, I’d say. I mean, her hull is still rubbish, but the controls are rewired and up to date, and the engine is up and running again. I was planning on reprogramming the communication panels today, and maybe take a look at the breaks. Care to join me?”

“Why not?” Emma said with a shrug. “It’s not like I’ve got anything better to do.” When she saw Charles’ disbelieving glance, she continued. “I was supposed to have a tutoring session with Master Alateen, but then there were some sort of surprise meeting, so we had to reschedule.”

“I see. Is she going to be your instructor, then?” He voiced his question with a slightly lowered tone. While it wasn’t inappropriate to ask such questions, it could nevertheless be a sore spot for some.

“If I’m lucky,” Emma affirmed, a hopeful smile barely touching her lips. “She’s a great teacher from what I’ve seen, and her way with the Force is beautiful. She has such control, such grace-”

“Really, Emma, we’re finding you a teacher, not a paramour!” Charles laughed, earning him an elbow in the side. Wincing at the sudden jab, he mock-glared at his companion.

Emma sniffed and stuck her nose in the air. “Don’t look at me like that. You deserved it and you know it.”

He didn’t protest at that, but returned to their previous topic. “So, Master Alateen you said. It sounds like you would be quite the pair the two of you. But didn’t you say Master Shaw was interested in training you as well?”

“He is,” Emma confirmed with a grimace. “But I don’t think that would be such a good idea. His way with the Force is so physical it’s almost aggressive, and that wouldn’t fit me at all. And I don’t really like him anyway, there’s something wrong with a man that’s always smiling, I think.” 

“He can’t be that bad, he’s a great Jedi and he’s been on the High Council for years,” Charles protested. But although he felt obligated to defend the man, he silently admitted that she had a point. Master Shaw might be an exceptional Jedi Knight, but he didn’t like the man any more than Emma did.

“I never said he was _bad_ , I just said I didn’t like him.” Emma shrugged, and they both let the matter rest.

In companionable silence, they walked the vast halls of the Academy parts of the Jedi Temple. In the end of the Eastern wing, not far from the old library pod, the younglings were practicing with their training sables. Some of them were so young that they barely managed to keep their tiny sables raised, and all of them were adorable as they swung their sables all over, barely managing to par every other ray from the flying plasma orbs.

“Aw, look at them,” Emma cooed, in a voice that wasn’t as derisive as she might have thought. “They really are awful at that, aren’t they? They’re lucky the orbs are so weak, they would all be in the med bay if those were set to a realistic level.”

“So would you. If I remember correctly, you managed to activate yours whilst inspecting the hilt. Nearly took your eye out, if I’m not mistaken.”

“Shush, Charles, I can’t hear you. Your toolbox makes too much noise.” She made a point of rattling his tools and increased her pace. Charles merely chuckled and chased after her. 

*****

“Alright, I changed my mind. This is so not how I want to spend my free day,” Emma whined as she slipped further down the sofa she was resting on. Upside down. Her blond hair was spread out over the floor in pale, yellow ringlets, but she didn’t seem to care.

“Nothing’s keeping you here, Emma,” Charles pointed out, mostly distracted by the coding in his lap. The programming was old, but not ancient, and most of it was easily replaced with new software. There were certain passages, however, that needed to be rewritten manually for it to work properly.

“Oh, Sugar, as if I could let you sit here and rot all by yourself!” Emma declared, graciously.

“Why thank you, your majesty. I’m ever thankful for the pleasure of your company,” he drawled, drily, and rolled his eyes.

“As you should be.” She looked far too pleased with herself. Charles just rolled his eyes again and continued working with his code.

Apparently, the little exchange was enough to keep Emma amused for a while and he was allowed to work in peace. Sadly, the calm silence combined with the monotone work and several nights worth of lack of sleep had his eyelids slowly drooping. He was almost grateful when Emma woke him. Almost.

“Ow! You really need to stop taking your pleasure in hurting me!” He snapped, rubbing the back of his head and glaring between her and the data script next to him on the floor. Emma was still on the couch, cackling, now with three datascripts slowly dancing around her head.

“We’re in a library pod, you know. Why don’t you, oh I don’t know, _read something_ if you’re bored?” His tone was rather curt, and Emma’s cackling ceased. Good, he thought, but almost immediately felt a little bad. “If you want something less heavy, you can find some fiction on the second floor.”

The pod was perhaps not amongst the biggest of library pods, but it was big enough for two floors, walls filled from floor to ceiling with datascipts. The second floor was merely shelves and a narrow strip of floor that followed the curved walls, and gave way for the big, two-floored windows on opposite ends of the circular room. Apart from the library, the pod had very little additional space; there was the cock-pit, which wasn’t as much separated from the library as it was a minor extension, and a terribly small cabin, living quarters for the being that needed to steer the pod and care for it when it was out visiting remote planets.

As of that moment, they were sitting in the lounge area in the middle of the bright, spherical room. Emma looked up at the shelves in the upper floor, wrinkled her nose, the turned back to Charles.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, actually sounding sincere. “But if I let you fall asleep like that, you wouldn’t be able to move tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry for snapping at you.” He gave her a sheepish smile. “It’s just, not sleeping isn’t good for my temper, I think.”

“You should talk to someone, if something is bothering you that much.” She said, not unkindly, as she slid down from the sofa. She was graceful as a cat, all long legs and arms, although she hadn’t quite grown into them. At twelve she was still a child in many ways, but he could already see that she would become quite a looker when she grew up. Not that Emma had ever been anything but.

She reached out a hand and touched him, tentatively. “Is this about your conversation with Master Adler?”

Surprised, Charles looked up at her. She chuckled lightly and patted his arm. “Not much escapes me. And Madam Adler told me about it herself. Told me to check if you needed some help with the, you know, hiding thing.” She waved it away as if was nothing major, this thing he had mulled over these last few days.

“That’s part of the reason yes. But I don’t fully know, myself. It’s like there’s something dark lurking at the edge of my vision, but I whenever I look, it’s gone.” He shook his head, feeling silly. “And the hiding thing, well, it’s hard to know if you’re hidden when no one’s looking. Besides, it feels stupid. And cowardly.”

“The Master Jedi often say that a true Jedi knows when to fight, and when not to. Hiding isn’t always good a coward’s way; it’s also sound tactics, sometimes,” Emma pointed out, the warmth from her hand spread over his arm. She straightened from where she sat hovering over his hunched form on the floor. “And if you want to, I can help you.”

“Help me?”

“If you need someone looking,” she clarified. “I’ll search for you with the Force, and you try hiding yourself from me.”

He hesitated, but Emma seemed sincere in her wish to help, and it would help him know how far he had gotten. “I would appreciate that.”

“Very well then.” She returned to the sofa and dragged him up beside her. With a deep breath, she closed her eyes and relaxed her entire posture.  Next to her, close but not touching, he did the same.

He slowed his breathing and focused on the flow of energy, in him and around him. Like a tide, it pulsed over him in intervals, surrounding him like a colorful mist. Through his closed eyes he could see Emma next to him, the younglings just down the hall, all the Jedi in the temple and all the beings dwelling in the city below and around him. If he pushed further he could see the planet as a whole and all her creatures, and at the edge of his awareness he could see the beings on the closest planets and shipmen crossing the galaxy.

But he focused down on his planet, on that room and on his own body. Slowly but surely, he pushed against the flow that ran through him. He imagined a diffuse form that withstood the stream and forced it to go around rather than through. The form grew and spread, from his chest to his arms and legs and all the way out to his toes and fingertips. When in fully enveloped his entire body, he could feel how the energy of all things no longer touched him, no longer filled him up and embraced him. Instead it went around him, like a stone force the river to part and then come together.

He felt dirty. He felt _hollow_.

Emma’s surprised hitch of breath told him that he had been successful. Her familiar, individual presence searched for him, at first with gentle curiosity, then more insistently, following the edge of his disguised presence. But his nothingness stood firm, unyielding, and after a while the search was discontinued.

After a moment of hesitation, he spread his hollowness outward, towards Emma, only enough to engulf the arms closest to him. He stilled, waiting for her approval before going further.

Her nod was slow, not entirely willing. A vague sense of disgust radiated of her, blurry and distorted as through an uneven glass. He could still see the world, but to a lesser extent, with lesser clarity.

He pressed on, moved his hollowness to envelope Emma limb by limb until she was as enveloped in it as he were. Once again she was clear to him, and she grappled after his hand, squeezing it tightly. Her disgust was still present, albeit lessened, and he could still feel her reluctance. Bit by bit he let the nothingness unfurl, much faster than he had pushed it forward, until it had crept back inside him and disappeared completely.

Next to him, he felt Emma exhale shakily. When he opened his eyes, he found that she stared at him. Not with disgust, thankfully, but something else. Awe, perhaps. Or incredulity.

“Well,” she let out a breathless laugh. “I’d rather not do that again, for a while, if you don’t mind.”

“I really don’t,” he agreed, completely honest. “Did it work though? Could you find me?”

Emma was silent, mentally writing and rewriting an answer. “No, I couldn’t. You were, I don’t know, lost? Like you left this world and took every trace with you. Not even dead, just erased.” She shivered and continued. “I knew where you were, and I tried to find you _right there_ , but instead of you, there was nothing. A _void_. Like nothing I’ve ever felt before.”

“So I’m untraceable?” He asked, feeling both excited and something he couldn’t quite define. Queasy?

“Almost,” Emma chewed on her lip. “When I looked specifically for you, there was, well, a Charles shaped hole in the world. Like you were a grain of sand; I wouldn’t miss you if you weren’t there one day, but if I looked for you, I could find the lack of you. But it was really hard, and that’s when you’re sitting right next to me.”

“Ah.” He wasn’t quite sure what to say to that. But he did feel better about the whole business with Irene, now that he had at least some confirmation that his practice with the hollowness had yielded results.

A wave of exhaustion washed over him, a mix of days without proper sleep and the sudden relief of as many days of underlying anxiety. He swayed gently where he sat, barely noticing the firm hands that steadied him and tenderly pushed him down deeper against the cushions. The hands left him, but where soon back along with a warm body that sidled up to him. Another head was tucked up against his shoulder; when he blinked, a nest of blond locks was spread out over him.

“Hmm?” Was all he got out, before Emma tutted at him.

“Shush you. You told me to get something to read, so that’s what I’m doing. I’m going to have to read it to you as well, obviously, otherwise I wouldn’t have anyone to complain to about it.” Her words were sharp and her voice slightly disdainful, as usual.

Neither of that came even close to the warm sensation of familial love that rolled out from her, tucked against his side.

“What’re you reading?” He mumbled, eyes drifting close again and his breathing slowed, fraction by fraction.

“I don’t know, something about a king. I think he time travels. It’s really old, actually, the reading pad almost didn’t recognize the script. Anyway, I thought I told you to be quiet?”

“I’m quiet,” he retorted, barely audible.

“Good. Now then. _The sword in the stone. On Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays it was Court Hand and Simmulae Days, while the rest of the week it was_ …” Emma’s smooth voice slowly lulled him to sleep where he lay, curled up on a sofa in an old library pod, as the sun slowly set on Coruscant’s horizon. As he drifted in and out of sleep, he caught a word or a sentence here and there.

“…all endeavours which are directed…”

“…so old as to be absolutely fabulous…”

“The bravest people are the ones who don’t mind looking like cowards.”

*****

_“Execute Order 66.”_

 

*****

If he could breathe, he would wake up screaming. One moment he lay there, fast asleep, the next his mind was filled with thousands of voiced, terrified and angry, plucked and silenced one by one until the silence was deafening.

He shot up straight only to be momentarily lost as to where he was, and then he recalled the afternoon and the following evening. Slightly less unsettled, he more or less rolled of the sofa and rushed to the door. He softly cursed Emma, who had must have locked the door whenever she had left him. He knew the code by heart and quickly entered it on the control next to the closed gate.

To his surprise, the screen flashed red.

He pushed in the numbers again, and again, the screen flashed red. Another time, the same result. He swore silently, dragging his hand through his hair in frustration. On the other side of the door, he could feel the fear and confusion spreading like a wildfire.

He lifted his gaze to the ceiling and caught sight of one of the cameras. He frowned, and then tried.

“Computer?”

There was no response, but he recognized the sound of a speaking system awakening. He hadn’t had the time to work on the ship computer, so for all he knew it might be down for the count, but he figured that it was worth a try.

“Computer?” He tried again, voice stronger. But again, nothing. He felt the frustration claw at him, and so he forced himself to breathe slowly and calm down. The system had a name, hadn’t it? Something like Stella? Celesta?

“Cerebro?”

The sound system crackled again, but this time it was followed by a digitalized voice, serene and feminine in that slightly unsettling way only computerized accents were.

_“Yes, Padawan Xavier?"_

“Open the door, please,” he requested, somewhat relieved.

 _“Certainly, sir._ ” The doors slid up in a smooth motion.

The hallway was empty, but unlike the sound proofed library pod, it wasn’t silent. The alarm echoed between the high walls and added to the genera chaos of raised voices, screams, yelled orders and thundering footsteps. He could hear the distinct sound of the cloned forces in motion somewhere in the vicinity, and set of in their direction. As the Republic’s military extension, they were most likely the safest bet, and probably knew what in the world it was that happened.

As he was about to turn around the corner, someone sprinted across the hallway. Ree Tainer, one of the older Padawans, not far from a Jedi knight herself. They had conversed occasionally, however briefly. She was a Cerean, but originated from Alderaan, like him, and their hazy memories of their shared home planet and her beautiful nature had usually been the topic.

She barely had time to glance at him before a blaster bolt hit her square in the back and she crumbled together, smoke unfurling from the smoldering fabric. Her eyes were dead before she even hit the floor. He stared at her in horror; he had seen death several times, but the Jedi didn’t kill in harsh blood, and he had never seen one of his comrades fall in combat before. Never seen anyone shot coldly in the back either.

It was so wrong, all of it. She had been running from something, he could still feel the remains of her dread lingering, but there was no evil presence in the Temple. The imprints of the Jedi Knights were palpable in the Force and so was the sense of their alarm, often coupled with anger and betrayal, but their presences were being snuffed out one by one like candle lights. Other than them, all he could pick up was the mellow, rather apathetic obedience of the clones, consistent and unchanging.

But there was something that killed them, clean and swift, without hesitation or remorse. And when he focused on the hall Ree had fled, all he sensed was clones. Acting without thinking, he drew in close to the wall, hiding in the shadow of one of the giant pillars the ornates the building 

There had to be something that he missed, that he couldn’t sense, couldn’t _see_ : the clones were under the command of the Republic, which in essence meant under the command of the Jedi. They were programmed to follow orders, incapable of mutiny. They _couldn’t_ be the source of the horror that took place within the Jedi Temple.

And yet, it was three clone soldiers that walked up behind her. One of them poked her with the snub of his blaster riffle, and then spoke something affirmative into his communicator. The soldiers received new orders, although he couldn’t hear what they were. The three clones then left the hall, leaving the girl where she was lying, slowly cooling on the stone floors.

His lightsaber was clutched tightly in his hands, although he couldn’t remember reaching for it. Parts of him pushed him to sneak up to the poor girl and do whatever he could for her, perhaps just get her up from her vulnerable crunch on the ground. Still, he knew that she was lost, and to risk discovery to restore a smidgeon of her dignity was not worth it, not when that dignity mattered little anymore.

Instead he crept back to the hall from which he’d come. He needed a plan, and for that he needed to find out what was happening, something he likely couldn’t do pressed up against a pillar. But there were beings close to him, really close. He had overlooked their presence when he had planned to search out the clones, but with that option gone, they were likely his best shot. Now, focused on them, he recognized their presences.

The younglings, the new initiates, were hiding in their practice room.

It was locked, just like his pod. In hindsight, he realized that the Temple was probably in lockdown, and while _Cerebro_ had override protocols for the pod, most regular rooms were not equipped as such. During emergencies, the central network was the only thing that could open and close the gates. It was mainly to keep intruders out and stationary, and any visitors out of harm’s way. Jedi, on the other hand, had other means of getting through locked doors.

He banged twice on the door to announce his intent, and then activated his lightsaber and promptly cut a hole in the door. Griping it with the Force, Charles lifted the loose part of the door and placed it on the floor, as soundless as he possibly could. He barely had the time to stick in head before he was faced with a lightsaber, wielded by Henry McCoy.

Hank blinked in surprise, then burst out into a relieved smile. Before he knew it, Charles was pulled into fierce hug by his clan mate.

“Charles, you had us scared half to death! I thought they had found us.” Henry frowned at him. “Do you know what’s going on?”

Charles shook his head. “No, this madness woke me up. The Temple is in chaos and it looks like the clones have gone rogue, that’s all I know.”

“I don’t think they’ve gone rogue,” Henry said, carefully. “It’s too organized. They started shooting all at the same time, and they only focus but only Force-sensitives. If it was just one or two, then maybe I’d say it’s some sort of rebellion. But not all of them, they don’t work like that.”

Nodding slowly in quiet agreement, Charles looked at the gathering of children before him. Most had looked at him with horror as he had climbed in, but that dissipated with Hank’s greeting. They were still scared, though, huddling together in groups.

One of the older initiates, a Tholothian girl named Ororo, came up to him. “Charles, what are we going to do? There’s so many of them, and I-” she faltered, and he could see unshed tears in her eyes. But when she spoke up, her voice was strong again. “I don’t think there are many of us left.”

“I’m afraid you might be right,” Charles looked out though the window, then away again when he saw the bodies strewn across the stairs to the Jedi Temple. With a deep breath, he squared his shoulders and turned back to her. “We need to get out of here. The escape shuttles down by the docking bay-”

“They’re out of commission,” Hank interrupted, grimly. “The docking bay is destroyed; we could see it from the windows. If we get out of here, we might be able to sneak them through the city.”

“They’re too small, they won’t be able to keep up. And there’s too many of them to carry.” A boy, Alex, pointed out from across the room. He didn’t look at them, instead he kept his eyes on the child that huddled in his arms. Scott, his younger brother, Charles recalled. The force ran strong in the Summers family. Their older brother was already a Jedi Knight, and likely already dead. He wouldn’t leave his brothers unprotected otherwise. The Jedi might discourage attachment, but family was hard to leave entirely.

Alex seemed to have reached the same conclusion regarding his brother, and despite the calm and soothing facade he kept up for Scott, Charles could feel the heartache roll of the boy in tides.

“Then we’ll take the library pod,” Charles decided. “I haven’t taken her out on a test drive yet, so I can’t promise that she’ll hold. But it’s better than staying here and wait for them to find us.”

The older of the children exchanged looks of varying degrees of doubt, but no one voices their objections. Using a library pod as an escape vessel wasn’t optimal as it lacked proper shielding and no defensive equipment, but that was also likely why it had been left whole. That, and that it was thought to be nonfunctional.

“Very well then,” Charles looked out at the small, scared faces. “We’re leaving. I need you all to be as fast and silent as you can. Don’t make a sound unless it’s absolutely necessary, and keep an eye open. Can you do that?”

The children nodded, some surer than others. He gave them a reassuring smile. “Good. I’ll go first. Sean and Angel, I want you to make sure that everyone’s keeping up. Hank, you go last and make sure that no one catches us.”

For a plan made on the spot, it was decent. The older initiates helped the younglings to climb out through the broken door, and they moved along the hallway, silent as shadows, all of them all too aware of what was going on in the temple around them. It was a hard thing to think about, and Charles tried not to wince whenever he felt the light of another life burn out, so close that he could almost hear them outside his mind as well.

They made it all the way to the library pod without interference, which was probably why the first thing they saw when they got there was a clone. He caught sight of them and instantly turned his blast rifle on them.

Purely by instinct, Charles made a sharp flick of his wrist and the rifle flew to the side. His other hand was brought up before the clone had the time to react, and Charles brutally forced his way into the other beings mind.

“You don’t need to hurt us,” he told the soldier sharply.

“I don’t need to hurt you,” the soldier readily agreed.

“You already killed us.” Charles waved the younglings forward. They quickly entered the pod, giving the clone a wide berth as they did so.

“I already killed you.”

“That’s what you’ll tell anyone who wonders about us. Now leave us, and don’t return.”

The clone was expressionless in his mask. Without another word, he turned away and left. He carried on securing the hall, and reported something through his com-unit.

Charles kept his eyes on the clone, just long enough to make sure that it truly took, and then ordered the entrance closed. Ororo, who was standing close to him, didn’t look away from the gate until it was properly closed.

“Is he going to tell anyone about us?” she asked. Her posture was rigid and her face carefully neautral, but she seemed slightly less tense than previously in the training room.

“I doubt it, but this isn’t something I do very often, so I can’t promise anything,” he admitted. “But that won’t matter, unless we leave before the rest of them realize where we are.”

“Hank is examining the consoles. He has commanded a few vessels similar to this before, he just needs to get reacquainted. It won’t take longer than a minute or two, he said.”

“Good.” Their time frame was unclear, but likely very limited. If whoever is was that commanded the clones also had force-sensitives in their ranks, they wouldn’t be able to hide for much longer.

Ororo glanced at him, and he sighed. “Ororo, this is not the time to be coy. If you have something on your mind, please say it.”

“Why didn’t you kill him?”

“He is more valuable to us alive. If we get out of here, his testimony might ensure our safety. I don’t know if they would look after us, if they knew we were still alive. But I would prefer not to risk it. And he was Persuaded; he no longer posed a threat. We don’t take lives unless we have to,” he chided her gently. As she lowered her head in shame at his words, he let the matter slide.

Instead, he turned to the horde of children. Most of them had calmed visibly, although they kept together in tight clutches. They weren’t as young as he thought them to be, he realized. Quite a few of them were his age, or just a couple years younger. When he had first arrived at the Temple, he had shown a great affinity for the Force, and had risen from initiate to Padawan at a considerable pace.

Sometimes, as he was treated older than he actually was, he forgot that he wasn’t all that old, himself.

“Why don’t you all take a seat and find something to hold onto,” he told them, making sure to keep his voice kind and collected. “When we leave, we have to do it fast, and it might get a bit bumpy.”

He left them and joined Hank by the controls. The other boy was frowning slightly, but the boards were alight, and the humming of the engine was increasing steadily.

“Are we ready to leave?”

“Just about, just give me a second. This ship has a stealth setting, which I think we might need.” Hank fiddled around with some of the buttons. With a snap, a blue, glowing shield covered the ship’s hull, rendering it hardly visible to an outside observer. “There we go!”

With skill, Hank undocked the pod and steered it away from the Temple. From above, the building that had been their home for so long looked nothing like it had. Usually a serene place, several wings were badly scorched and smoking, and some parts had even collapsed. But the worst part was the bodies, both those he could see and those he couldn’t. The corpses of their teachers and friends, of almost everyone they knew.

Unable to look at it further, he turned to Hank.

“Get us out of here. Head for the outer rim, and hopefully we might have a plan when we get there.”

“Sure. But these shields won’t do much if they look for us, you know.” Hank kept his eyes on the screen as he spoke, carefully steering them away from Coruscant and out into open space. “Maybe we should split up. They might not sense us as easily, then.”

“We’ll stick together,” Charles said, face grim. “But don’t worry; Madam Adler made sure that I knew how to keep us hidden.”

Satisfied with his words, Hank returned to the controls. He remained silent as Charles slumped down on the chair next to him, exhausted. All they had ever known was gone, and he was uncertain as to what they should do or where they should go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Minor Character Death

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo, writing Yoda killed me and my wordprocessor. ;)  
> Please leave a comment and tell me what you think!


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